


a solis ortus cardine (from eastern lands that first see the sun)

by flibbertygigget



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dubious Consent, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-02 12:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: In 1946, Lord Voldemort murdered the Minister of Magic and declared himself supreme ruler of Magical Britain. In 1951, Sybil Trelawney, the last True Seer, delivered the Prophecy of the Chosen Child to Albus Dumbledore. In 1981, the Potters were slaughtered, and another possible Chosen Child was apparently killed.In 1991, Harry Dursley receives his Hogwarts letter. The Order of the Phoenix may have found their new Messiah, and Severus Snape may have found his new archenemy.





	1. Part I: in partibus infidelium (in the land of unbelievers)

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_  
_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_  
 _And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not_  
 _And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_  
 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies_

\- Sybil Trelawney’s Prophecy of the Chosen Child, delivered to Albus Dumbledore 31 July 1951

 

_31 July 1991 (40 years later)_

It wasn’t every day that the Head of the Order of the Phoenix requested your presence, not even when you were one of his only windows into the Dark Lord’s twisted version of Hogwarts. Severus knocked on the door of the innocuous looking Muggle house, glancing around nervously though he knew that no one outside the Order could even see the place. He felt the security charms sweep over him, confirming his identity, before the door unlocked with a loud clack.

“What’s your business here, Snivellus?” Severus tensed, jaw clenching shut painfully as he saw Sirius Black, lounging in the doorway like he owned the place.

“For your information, Black, I was summoned by the Head,” he said. Black scowled.

“By the Dark Lord, more likely.”

“You don’t need to interrogate me anyways,” Severus said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have the right to see Albus if you weren’t called for. I want to see the invitation.”

“I don’t have to answer to you, Black.”

“Come on, Sniv, give it here.”

“It was by Patronus,” Severus said. He was started to go from annoyed to fearful. If Black didn’t let him in, he didn’t know what kind of consequences there would be. “You know I can’t get owl post when-“

“When you’re busy being the Headmaster’s lapdog. Teaching his purebloods, making his potions, warming his bed-“

“When I’m at Hogwarts, where I _live_ most of the year. Just let me in, Black, or I’ll-“

“Or you’ll what?”

“Sirius.” The calm voice made Severus straighten up into attention as Sirius turned around in surprise. It could only belong to one person.

“Sir!” Black said. A deceptively frail-looking old man appeared out of the shadows of the corridor.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore said with a nod, “allow Professor Snape to come in. We have much to discuss.” Severus couldn’t help smirking as he swept past Black, but he didn’t say anything until Dumbledore led him into the snug room that served as the Head’s office, locking the door behind them.

“Take a seat, Professor. This may take a while,” Dumbledore said. Severus sat, perching nervously at the edge of his chair. “Do you know why I called you here?”

“No, sir,” Severus said. Dumbledore went behind his desk and took a file from the drawer, passing it to Severus. It contained a few sheets of paper – not parchment, since most of the Order had little access to the Magical world these days – and a Muggle photograph. Severus’s brow furrowed and looked at the photograph closer. It was a boy, maybe eight or nine years old, with wild black hair, taped glasses, and brilliant green eyes.

“Well, what do you think?” Dumbledore said. Severus looked up from the file.

“I don’t recognize him from the Muggleborns I was given to process,” he said. “If the Headmaster has begun to suspect…”

“No, no, he has no suspicions, at least none that I know of. The boy is not a Muggleborn.”

“I see,” Severus said. “Who is his True Parent?” Dumbledore’s jaw clenched slightly.

“I think you know already. You went to school with his father, after all, and you were acquainted with his mother as well.” Severus looked at the photo again, and the answer came easily.

“Potter,” he said. “But the mother…” He blinked. “That’s impossible. The entire family was killed.”

“The boy survived,” Dumbledore said. “I placed him with Muggle relatives, his mother’s sister and her husband. I thought it safest.” He sat across from Severus. “You see the problem now, I presume.”

“What problem? His name’s been legally changed, so when it’s written in the book as a half-blood they will assume that he was the product of an affair. Perhaps he should be somewhat disguised, considering the circumstances of his apparent death, but-“

“Harry Potter will not be attending Hogwarts.” Severus double checked one of the papers.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” he said. “Attendance is still mandatory of half-bloods, despite Madame Lestrange’s campaign, and I doubt that anything will change over the next month.”

“Nonetheless, Harry will not so much as board the Hogwarts Express,” Dumbledore said. Severus looked confused, and the Head of the Order sighed. “You know the Prophecy, I presume?”

“Of course!” Severus tried not to let his indignation show in his voice. Of _course_ he knew the Prophecy of the Chosen Child. It was the Order’s greatest hope, their reason for existing. It was a promise that, one day, the Dark Lord would no longer reign supreme. For Dumbledore, the Head, to doubt him was an insult of the highest order.

“Then you understand why Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts. He was and he _is_ the best potential Chosen Child that has ever existed. The fact that he was able to survive the attack only shows that he has been marked as Voldemort’s equal.” Severus flinched at the Dark Lord’s name, but he didn’t back down.

“That may be so,” he said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that he is required to attend Hogwarts.” Dumbledore stood abruptly and began to pace.

“I’ve done the arithmancy myself. A boy, fitting the parameters of the Chosen Child, marked for the prophecy thirty years after it was given by the last True Seer. Thirty – the number of wholeness and completion multiplied by the number of perfection and divine order. A boy set to begin his training forty years after the giving of the Prophecy, the time that separates two distinct epochs. Forty also contains the number of universality, the number which draws all things to itself-“

“And the number that represents death in Chinese Arithmancy,” Severus cut in. “And even if you credit the equations, there’s still the fact that he is required by law to go to Hogwarts.” Dumbledore waved him aside.

“His transport here can easily be arranged,” he said. Severus’s heart stuttered in his chest. “That’s why I have brought you here, Professor. You are one of the few Order members who can perform magic outside of the strongest of wards.” Dumbledore looked at Severus expectantly. Severus closed his eyes from a moment, trying to select the right words to placate the Head while still getting his point across.

“I presume,” he said at least, “that this means you have decided to extend the Order’s protection to half-bloods as well.” Severus opened his eyes to see that Dumbledore looked utterly baffled.

“My boy, the Order’s resources are already stretched to their limits. Besides, half-bloods such as yourself are the Order’s best connection to the Wizarding World.” Severus could fill in the end of that statement too easily. It would be foolishness to give up such a valuable resource, after all. He sighed.

“What do you want me to do, sir?” he said, resigned. Dumbledore beamed.

* * *

During Severus’s first year at Hogwarts, the entire school had been abuzz with the preparations for the twenty-fifth anniversary of their Dark Lord’s reign. Later, in Advanced Arithmancy, Severus would find a bitter sort of humor in the fact that the year that ought to have heaped “blessing upon blessing” had only brought him pain upon pain. The worst part was that, unlike the purebloods that surrounded him, he had gone in completely blind.

Severus had, at first, been glad to be removed from his Muggle father. His mother had disappeared years before, fed up with his father’s abuse and homesick for the Magical world. After that, his father had fallen further and further, drinking even more heavily and beating him enough that, had he not been subconsciously using his magic to heal himself, he would have likely died before ever seeing Hogwarts. Even after finding out what really happened to the Muggles that half-bloods like him were removed from, Severus couldn’t bring himself to feel any sort of sadness or regret. Tobias Snape had deserved death, and part of Severus vindictively hoped that one of the nastier Removers had been assigned to his case. Hell, Severus at age eleven would have helped them happily.

Sorting Slytherin had been both the worst and the best thing that could have happened to him. Of all the houses, Slytherin was the one that the Dark Lord loved the most. It was full of those with the purest pedigree, all of whom were on the fast track to positions of power in the Ministry or even in the Dark Lord’s Death Eater ranks. For the half-blood son of a dead line and a filthy Muggle to somehow infiltrate their ranks was either an insult or a threat, and the Slytherins that surrounded him responded well to neither. At the same time, he knew that he would never have climbed as far as he had without the grudging connections that he had made there.

Subservience to the Slytherins’ whims allowed him to survive – barely, sometimes, but survive. It was better than living with his father, anyways, since at least at Hogwarts he knew he’d have food the next day. And somehow, against all odds, he managed to make the right connections, sell away the right parts of his soul in order to rise above his place. He was the first half-blood to teach at Hogwarts since the beginning of the Lord’s reign, and the fact that he had a filthy Muggle surname just made his flight more impressive. He had even met the Dark Lord once, a favor beyond measure even for a Pureblood, although he had been too terrified to even look at the powerful wizard.

Part of him – the bitter, Muggle part that he tried to ignore – wished that his mother hadn’t been a witch, that he’d just been a Muggle or a lawful pureblood like everyone else. Part of him wished that he’d never been born at all.

* * *

The Headmaster’s office was nothing like the Head’s, Severus thought as he sat and waited for the Headmaster to speak to him. For one thing, the room was practically dripping in luxury, with plush rugs and mahogany furniture and walls bordered with gold leaf. The only uncomfortable thing in the room, really, was the straight-backed chair where Severus now sat, meant to intimidate delinquents, parents, and professors alike.

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?” he said at last, tiring of the blatant power play.

“I told you, Severus, to call me Lucius.” Severus felt his hands clench of their own accord. It didn’t take long to realize that being the subject of the Headmaster’s favor was almost worse than the alternative. Lucius Malfoy was soft in his disdain, preferring intimidation and petty power plays over more painful methods. But when you were in his favor, he expected things from you in exchange, and denying him could mean worse retribution than those who he simply despised. If Severus had a choice, he would have stayed under the Headmaster’s radar, but he needed information about Hogwarts for the Order and that was that.

“Of course, Lucius,” he said. Finally the Headmaster looked up from the paper he’d been pretending to read, signing it with a flourish.

“Now, Severus, do you know why I asked you here?” Severus shook his head.

“No, sir,” he said. The Headmaster snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared, bearing a decanter of whiskey twice Severus’ yearly salary and two crystal glasses.

“I called you here,” Malfoy said, “because we have a problem, Severus.” He passed a stack of parchment over the table. Severus didn’t so much as glance at them before he had his whiskey in hand. He had to score his points where he could, and quite frankly he had a feeling he’d need the alcohol. He looked down at the papers, and then he looked back to Malfoy, confused.

“These seem to be perfectly in order,” he said. Malfoy let out a long sigh.

“Oh, they’re in order,” he said. “Notice anything strange, though?” Severus looked down again. Abbot and Bones – both purebloods from traditionally Hufflepuff families. Finch-Fletchley, Granger, Thomas – Muggleborns who he would be sent to slaughter and instead send the Order’s way. Malfoy’s son, Draco, who would no doubt report all the staff’s movements to his father. Another Weasley, who had already reported that he would be homeschooled. The Headmaster didn’t know that the boy’s parents were both members of the Order.

“No,” Severus said nervously. “Nothing.” Malfoy’s fist slammed on his desk, and Severus flinched.

“Mudbloods!” Malfoy shouted. “Mudbloods and half-bloods! There are more of the wrong sort than ever, Severus. Less than a third of the incoming class will be of good pureblood heritage, even after we dispose of the Mudbloods.” He stood and began to pace. Severus carefully kept his head down, pretending to examine the parchments. “Have you thought about marriage, Severus?” Malfoy said abruptly.

“What?”

“Marriage! Your line may be tainted, but your mother was from good stock. If you married a pureblood woman, in a few generations the Muggle blood would hardly count.” Severus couldn’t help a grimace. “Oh, come now. You know that there are plenty of pureblood women from lesser houses or less reputable backgrounds that would jump at a chance to marry a Hogwarts professor. Narcissa’s sister, Andromeda, is back on the market since Bellatrix got her Muggle out of the way, or you could take her half-blood daughter, Nympha-something-or-other. Or if you like them a bit younger, there are several girls in the upper years who I’m sure would enjoy the chance at being kept right out of Hogwarts.”

“I appreciate the concern, Head – Lucius, but I have no intention of marrying at this time,” Severus said, pushing the parchments back across the desk decisively. “It’s not just a matter of finding someone who would be willing to marry the likes of me, we would also need to stand each other.”

“Oh, come on, Severus,” Malfoy said. “You don’t actually have to _like_ the bloody thing. Look at me and Narcissa. We meet a few times a year in the French Rivera or some other romantic location, have the required intercourse, and then spend the rest of our lives happily apart, taking on whatever lovers catch our fancy. She’s happy, I’m happy, and we have managed to produce a pureblood son. Your offspring with a woman of good standing, though tainted, would also count as pureblood.”

“Not all of us have a house in the French Rivera,” Severus said. “Besides, you know my tastes, Lucius. Marriage is not for me.” Malfoy gave Severus a smirk that was more like a sneer.

“Ah, yes,” he said, topping off Severus’s glass. “I am well aware of _that_ , my little half-blood.” Severus threw back the expensive whiskey, finishing it in one gulp. He could see how that made the Headmaster’s eyes flash, and when Malfoy beckoned him to the bedroom hidden behind a mahogany cabinet Severus didn’t even have to fake his smile.

Even Severus had been surprised by how many doors being the Headmaster’s whore had opened. His position, dubious though it was, had lead to him being put in charge of “taking care of” the Muggleborns every summer before school started, had even gotten him invited to a few of the larger Death Eater parties. It shouldn’t have been so easy to give away his dignity and prove Black’s snide insinuations right, but he had done worse for the sake of the Order – for the sake of their ideals, really, because from where he was their imperfections and hypocrisies were all the more obvious.

He had been complicit in so much evil, after all. The rounding up of Muggleborns, the brainwashing of his students, the slaughter of Muggles for the sake of entertainment. His hands would never be clean. And his dignity was such an inconsequential thing, really, twisted and stunted from his father and his schoolmates and… well, and everything else. He had nothing to lose, not name nor wealth nor body. He had nothing but his soul left, broken and clouded though that was.

Malfoy shoved him against the doorframe, the beautiful carvings of lilies and unicorns digging into his back painfully. Severus’ head was forced back, lips and teeth attacking his jugular as Malfoy split open his robes. Severus moaned.

“Lucius,” he said. The Headmaster paused, and Severus opened his eyes, heart falling a little. He had hoped to head this off by pretending to enjoy it from the start, but it seemed that Malfoy wasn’t in the mood for a simpering concubine today.

“I think you’ve been a bit too, ah, independent lately, Severus,” Malfoy said. He stepped back from Severus. “Strip.” Severus did as he was told.

“Headmaster-“ Perfectly manicured fingernails dug into his shoulder, drawing blood.

“Don’t speak, little one. I’m tired of hearing that voice of yours.” Severus nodded, clamping his jaw shut. This was the worst part of it, he thought. He could never tell whether Malfoy was just in the mood for a bit of rough play or seriously planning on punishing him for his perceived faults in bed.

A gag was shoved in his mouth and tied so tight he choked. This was punishment, then. The Headmaster was never rough so quickly when he wasn’t being punished. Severus wondered, vaguely, what had set the man off. He had seemed satisfied with Severus’ performance before, if not a bit annoyed by his refusal to get married. Whatever it was, Severus would know soon enough.

“I think you’ve been laboring under the misapprehension that you belong at Hogwarts,” Malfoy said. He spun Severus around and slammed him into the wall. Severus’ cheek was pressed against the carvings painfully, and he could feel the Headmaster’s bulging prick being shoved into the cleft of his ass. “Allow me to correct you. You are nothing, my little half-blood, without me behind you, and the sooner you accept that the better off you will be.”

Malfoy’s fingers traced the scars on Severus’ back almost tenderly, and Severus flinched. His father, his classmates, and now his Headmaster… he had many sources for those scars, most of which he would rather forget. Not that he could forget, teaching at Hogwarts on the grace of the more powerful and more pureblooded. Then Malfoy’s nails bit into his skin, reopening it along those same lines. Tears didn’t spring to Severus’ eyes, not yet, but this wasn’t about the pain. This was humiliation, plain and simple, a reminder that Severus was dependent on Malfoy for everything.

Except he wasn’t. For his job, yes, but his job didn’t really matter. If he was thrown out of Hogwarts, he would go to the Order. If he was forced to marry some woman, there were spells that could keep her from conceiving, potions that could make him infertile. No matter what the Headmaster pretended, Severus was not without recourse. He had everything he needed right in his head.

Malfoy’s dick was shoved into him, and that did cause his eyes to well up with tears. It hurt to be penetrated without preparation, with only the minimal lube necessary to make the experience comfortable for the Headmaster, and Severus was ashamed to admit that he would probably never get used to it. Malfoy’s fingers wrapped around his throat, and Severus was suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Yes,” Malfoy moaned, “yes, you _depend_ on me. For everything, For your fucking breaths. You fucking need me to use you.”

 _No, I don’t_ , Severus thought in the privacy of his head.  _I’m the one who’s using you._

It didn’t take long for Malfoy to finish. If there was one good thing about the times when Malfoy punished him, it was that Severus was at least allowed to leave quickly. He redressed in the Headmaster’s office, ignoring the concerned looks from the permanently silent portraits that lined the walls. His back and arse still smarted, but it was nothing. He did glare, however, when a rather stuffy-looking Headmistress about halfway up the wall disappeared into the passage at the back of her frame.

“I’m perfectly alright,” he said. “There’s no need for you to disturb anyone.” A relatively recent Headmaster – who looked like a thinner, posher Sirius Black – raised an eyebrow. “No, really. I’m hardly even injured.”

“I will be the judge of that, Severus,” said a Scottish brogue. Severus flinched slightly. He turned to see the greying figure of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

“Professor, I’m afraid that the Heads have disturbed you for no reason. I’m perfectly fine-“

“Nonsense,” she said. “Come along. We wouldn’t want the _Headmaster_ walking in on us like this.” That, at least, was true. Sometimes Severus thought that only the danger was.

He followed Professor McGonagall silently, trying to ignore how each step sent a bolt of pain up his spine. Even after knowing her for two decades, Severus didn’t think he’d ever understand Minerva McGonagall. As Head of Gryffindor, she had hardly made his time as a student easier. On the other hand, she hadn’t seemed to judge him for his blood status like many of the other teachers. Now that he was older, Severus suspected that she held some Order-aligned sympathies, but despite her help and sympathy on days like this he would always remain suspicious of her. Anyone who looked upon the likes of Black and Potter fondly would never be his friend. Still, she was the closest thing to one that he had in Hogwarts.

“You don’t seem to need serious medical attention,” Professor McGonagall said, holding open the door of her quarters for him. Severus knew that he was limping now, but as there were no students around he couldn’t be bothered to hide it.

“Just a potion for the pain,” he said. She handed him the midnight blue bottle, well acquainted with what he usually took after his more intimate meetings with the Headmaster.

“Will you stay for tea, or perhaps for something stronger?” It was the same question she always asked, and as always Severus shook his head.

“Perhaps some other time,” he lied. He didn’t thank her for the potion or her small measure of kindness. Acknowledging those things would only result in debt or loss, and those were things that Severus could ill afford.

* * *

Dealing with the Muggleborns was always Severus’s last task of the summer, carried out over the last two weeks of August, and it never got any easier.

He had a system now, one that had been tested and refined over the five years since he had convinced Headmaster Malfoy to put him in charge of this essential element of the Dark Lord’s reign. Officially, he was to go to the house and murder the eleven-year-old “Mudblood” and any parents or siblings. It was supposed to be simple, brutal, and final, and the sheer finality of it was the only thing that had kept his true actions from being discovered over the years. What he really did was far more difficult.

“Dr. Granger?” he said. The woman who had opened the door blinked at him, politely confused.

“Yes?” she said.

Dr. Granger was dark-skinned and tall, taller than him, her hair clipped short and tight to her head. In her charcoal pantsuit and low white heels, she looked intimidatingly upper-middle class, the kind of person who would have wrinkled her nose at Severus when he was nine years old and playing with Lily at the wrong playground. Severus reflexively adjusted his tie, reminding himself that, in his green tweed suit, no Muggle would ever be able to guess that he had grown up in a rotting two-up two-down in the middle of the Black Country.

“Dr. Granger, are your daughter and husband in? I have a matter of some importance to discuss with all of you.” Dr. Granger eyed him dubiously. “It has to do with your daughter’s abilities.”

“Academically?”

“In a way,” Severus said. “Has your daughter ever done things, things that neither you nor she can explain?” Dr. Granger’s lips pursed.

“Come in then,” she said. Severus followed her into a sitting room that was as neutrally posh as a movie set. “May I get you some tea, Mr…”

“Snape,” he said. “Severus Snape. And yes, if it isn’t inconvenient.” She nodded, disappearing into the kitchen for a few moments before returning with a bloody proper tea service. Severus took his cup with a soft “thank you.”

“Hermione and Thomas, my husband, should be back quite soon,” she said. “They were just doing some last-minute school shopping.” Severus nodded, not knowing what to say. He’d always been terrible at small talk, and Dr. Granger’s mention of school shopping did nothing to make him feel less guilty about the way he was about to uproot her and her family’s life.

The two of them sat in silence for a solid ten minutes. Severus finished his cup and allowed Dr. Granger to pour him another. When the door opened, he jumped a little, only relaxing when he heard a youthful laugh that couldn’t possibly belong to a Death Eater. A few moments later, and the other Dr. Granger entered the room along with the Muggleborn he had been sent for in the first place.

Both of them stopped abruptly when they saw him. The other Dr. Granger, Thomas, was even taller than his wife, with greying strawberry-blond hair and chiseled features grown slightly soft with age. If the two of them had stood next to each other, they would look more like a pair of dancers or models than anything real. Hermione Granger, in sharp contrast, was incredibly normal. She was dressed in jeans and a baggy brown and orange striped sweater. She was carrying almost a dozen thick books, and her abundant hair looked as though it was trying to free itself from her skull.

“Mariah, who is this?” Thomas Granger said. Severus stood.

“Severus Snape,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve come to talk to you about your daughter’s abilities. It’s quite urgent.”

“We’ve already chosen a school for her. Besides, isn’t it a bit late for that?” Mariah Granger shook her head at him.

“Just listen, Tom.”

“The fact is,” Severus said, “your daughter exhibits abilities beyond those of the everyday. Have things happened around her that didn’t make sense? Objects floating, changing color, that sort of thing?” Thomas nodded hesitantly. “Well, the truth is that there are many of us with those abilities. We call ourselves wizards and witches.”

“I knew it!” Hermione Granger said triumphantly. She looked from her mother to her father and back again, beaming. “I knew it! Didn’t I tell you so? Some of the things that happened didn’t make any logical sense whatsoever.” She looked back at Severus. “So, is there a school? An apprenticeship program? I expect you’re here because I have to be trained, of course.” Severus shook his head sadly. This, _this_ was always the most difficult part, the part where he had to dash all the hopes that the children had been building up subconsciously.

“Unfortunately, it is far more complicated than that.” He glanced back over at Mariah Granger before sitting in the chair he had abandoned. Thomas and Hermione sat on the sofa across from him, curiosity and confusion mixing on their faces. “There is a dangerous wizard who has been in power for the last forty-five years. In his regime, you all are in terrible danger, because he has implemented the mass slaughter of those witches and wizards without magical heritage and their families.” Thomas Granger hugged his daughter close, a look of horror and disgust on his face. Mariah Granger’s eyes narrowed as she leaned forward.

“Why are you telling us this?” she said.

“I am a member of an underground resistance group known as the Order of the Phoenix,” Severus said. “The Order offers protection to Muggleborns and their families.”

“What kind of protection?”

“You will be relocated to an Order safehouse that has the strongest protective charms that the Order can manage. Miss Granger will be offered an education in magic. After a period of time, you will be able to rejoin the Muggle world under different names, but in the meantime the Order will provide for all your needs.”

“My husband and I run a dental practice. We can’t just pack our things and leave.” Severus sighed.

“You can. You _must_. The Dark Lord’s government already knows your family and your location, and if he finds that you are alive he will send people to kill all of you.” Mariah Granger’s jaw clenched.

“May we have time to-“

“No,” Severus said, interrupting bluntly. “Really, the only reason I’m here is because I convinced the relevant parties that I am capable of murdering you and your family. I will not be able to return and take you to the safehouse, so if you refuse now you will be signing your death sentences.”

“A few minutes then? Privately?”

“Of course,” Severus said. “I’ll just go wait in the kitchen.” He began to leave the room, but then he looked back at the Grangers. All of them looked very scared, sitting as though petrified in the posh room. “I’m very sorry.”

It took almost an hour for Mariah to come to him again. Severus had been sitting at the table, brooding, and he jumped slightly when she touched his shoulder.

“We’ll do it,” she spat through clenched jaw. “We’ll take your damn Order’s help.”

* * *

Severus dropped the Grangers off at Headquarters, thankfully guarded by Arthur Weasley this time rather than Black, and checked his watch. It was only four in the afternoon. He had plenty of time to take care of the Muggleborn paperwork and then nip over to Surrey and get their new Messiah.

Their new Messiah. Harry Dursley – Harry Potter? _Bah_.

Severus closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the slightly warm window of the train. Since Dursley wasn’t on his list of Muggleborns to be exterminated, he was forced to use Muggle means to travel to Little Whinging. No Ministry-issued Portkeys or expense reimbursement from the Order. Normally Severus would be more understanding about the limits of what was, after all, a secret and quite illegal resistance group, but he simply wasn’t in the mood to give them any slack.

He understood, obviously, why he was in charge of telling the Muggleborns, though those meetings never got any easier for him or for the children. No, what he didn’t get was why he had to be the one to introduce the Dursley boy to the world that fate and Arithmancy had decided the boy would have to save. Surely his checkered history with both of the boy’s parents rendered him completely unsuitable for such a supposedly important task, not to mention his dubious position as both a half-blood and a former Slytherin.

Severus sighed, bringing down one of the few Occlumency shields that caged his thoughts even from himself. It had been a long time since he had thought about life before Hogwarts as more than a blur of unending pain and neglect, but he would have to at least examine those memories if he was to do right by the supposed Chosen Child. His father, whipping him across the face with a belt buckle-first for some imagined slight – that was pushed aside easily enough. His mother, slurring her words as she told him that his blood was so filthy she was surprised he even had magic – that was more difficult to cast aside, though six-year-old Severus’s impressions of her words were unclear. Recalling her now, Severus could feel nothing but disgust for the woman who had been knocked up by a dirt-poor alcoholic swine and then dared act like her son was the one to blame.

It was that memory that led inevitably to another, far more pleasant one. Dark red hair and bright green eyes, grinning at him on a warm day in early August. Lily Evans (he could never think of her as a Potter) had been his everything for the two short years he had known her, and even now the pale memory of his last day with her filled him both with joy and a terrible, painful longing. At eleven years old, Severus had done what he could, but even that couldn’t stop him from wishing that he had been able to have just a little longer with his friend, perhaps the only true friend he had known in his life.

The moment that she had seen him, she had picked up that something was wrong. She had always been perceptive, acknowledging and soothing the punishments his father chose to inflict no matter what Severus had done to deserve them and how he tried to hide them from her. Then again, Severus had been jumpy that day even for him, full of the knowledge that any day could bring his Hogwarts letter and with it his ticket out of Cokeworth forever. No matter how he looked forward to _that_ , he was not looking forward to what he was working up the courage to say to Lily.

“What’s going on, Sev?” she’d asked, eyes full of worry in spite of her easy smile. Severus, throwing caution to the wind, took the wand he’d found in the dustiest corner of the cupboards at home and shoved it at her.

“Here,” he said. Lily looked down at it, surprised.

“Is that-“

“It’s a wand,” he said. “It was my mum’s. She left it when – well, when she left it. It ay much, but it works. I tried a few spells with it.” Lily had taken the wand reverently, rolling it between her fingers. It gave off a few sparks. “Good. It likes you.”

“Wow, this is brilliant, Sev!” she said. Then bright green eyes had looked over at him warily. “But why are you showing this to me?”

“I’m giving it to you, Lily,” Severus said. Her mouth opened in a round ‘o’ and she shook her head in protest. “No, you’ve gotta take it. I’ve been doing some thinking about some of the things Mum said when I was younger, and I don’t think it’ll be safe for you with wizards.”

“What do you mean? I can do magic-“

“I know you can. But Mum used to say I was filthy, you know, for having a Muggle for a parent and being able to do magic. And I only have my da. How much worse’ll it be for you with a whole family of them?”

“Maybe your Mum was just…” Lily trailed off. “Well, maybe she’s not normal for wizards. Maybe normal wizards are nicer about these things.” Severus shook his head.

“I hope so, Lily, but I doubt it. Mum was willing to marry Da. If she could love him and still say those things, I’ll be that normal wizards’ll be worse. Much worse.”

“But what good will having a wand do me? I don’t know any magic, and if it’s really as bad as you say…”

“You’ll have to run,” Severus said. Lily shook her head, clenching the stick of wood to her chest. “You’ll have to take your mum and dad and sister and _run_ , Lily, run away so that they can’t find you. If they find you, they’ll – they’ll – I don’t know what they’ll do, but I know it can’t be good.”

“Sev…” Lily hesitated for a moment, then she threw herself at him, enfolding him in a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll do what you said right away.” Severus felt as though part of his soul was being ripped out of him. “I wish… I wish we could both go to Hogwarts. Will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know,” Severus had said, squeezing his eyes shut to cut off the tears he knew were there. “I hope so.”

Tearing himself from his own mind, Severus wiped fiercely at his cheeks, glad that the train was mostly empty. That had been the last time he’d seen Lily in person, the last time he’d talked to her. Pushed onto their separate paths, he had weathered the difficulties of being a half-blood in Slytherin House, while she had somehow found her way to the Order and begun working with them to take down the Dark Lord. Potter had joined the group right after graduation, and the rest was history. Lily Evans and James Potter had gotten married, had a son, and that son had gotten them killed.

Just the thought of James Potter made Severus curdle. A pureblood with every advantage and a habit of harassing those less powerful than him, including the resident half-blood Slytherin. Severus had no idea how Potter, Black, and Pettigrew had gotten involved with the Order, and quite frankly he didn’t care. To him they were bullies, plain and simple, and they would always stay that way until he saw evidence that any one of them felt remorse for their actions. Potter was dead, Pettigrew vanished, and if Black was any indication Severus would be waiting for a long, long time.

And now Severus had to go tell their son that he was expected to help the Order defeat the greatest Dark Wizard in generations, one who had everyone from the Ministry down bent to his whims. _Fuck_.

* * *

The houses on Privet Drive, with their flawlessly manicured lawns and identical white faces, seemed to Severus as distinctly Muggle as Spinner’s End. Not in their looks exactly – the houses here were about two figures above his pay grade and about three above his father’s – but in the forced normalcy, like the families inside them were seeking to cast Disillusionment Charms upon themselves. Plug your nose and close your eyes and pretend the world isn’t choking. Number Four was no different, and Severus smoothed down his tie, assuring himself that it was still there.

This was not the type of place for a wizard.

Severus rang the doorbell. For a long time there was no response, and then he heard light feet scrambling towards him. The door swung open, and Severus found himself face to face with – not James Potter. Severus wrenched himself back from the painful memories the copper-brown face and messy black hair had forced to the forefront. No, this was a different Potter, the Chosen Child.

And then Severus saw the boy’s eyes.

Lily’s eyes, there was no mistaking them. They were hidden behind those hideous plastic-frame glasses, and Severus had to resist the urge to tear the blasted things from the boy’s face. But they were still Lily’s, and Severus was relieved to find that time somehow hadn’t distorted his memory of them. They were just as bold, just as startlingly vivid against the bland beige-and-grey backdrop of Severus’s life. He would have killed just to keep staring into them forever.

“Um, sir?” Severus shook himself out of his half-enchanted state. It didn’t matter who the damn boy looked like. He was the Chosen Child, and therefore he was to be given every advantage.

“Mr. Potter, I am a representative from the Order of Phoenix,” Severus said. “Are your guardians home? It would be best if I spoke to them as well.” Harry nodded warily.

“I’ll go get my uncle,” he said. Severus nodded, stepping into the foyer and looking around. The home seemed absolutely normal in a way that made the hairs on Severus’s neck stand on end.

There was a large, indistinct bellow, and then the boy ran back into the hallway. He looked up at Severus, warier than ever.

“Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia want to see you now, sir,” he said.

“Good,” Severus said, trying to shake off the sense of unease that had been growing since he had stepped onto the straight, pothole-less street. He followed the boy into a living room. A beefy man who had to be the boy’s Uncle Vernon was sitting on the couch in front of a shockingly large telly. He stood when Severus entered the room and held out his hand.

“Vernon Dursley,” he grunted as Severus shook it. “M’ wife will be in in a moment.”

Severus nodded and sat in one of the wooden chairs that were somehow more uncomfortable with cushions than without, while the boy continued to linger awkwardly in the doorway. Vernon Dursley didn’t speak to him, choosing instead to stare at the black screen of the telly. Eventually the boy grew tired of standing and sat in the other hard wooden chair. It was a strangled gasp that first alerted Severus to Petunia Evans Dursley’s presence.

“You!” she said, clutching the tea tray tightly. Severus looked up.

The years had been kinder to Petunia Evans than to him. Her skin was more wrinkled and her hair more styled, but other than that she looked much the same as she had at fourteen. Severus and Petunia had never got on, and Severus hadn’t been sure how this always awkward type of meeting would go, but for the moment it seemed that his fears were not playing out. In fact, Petunia seemed almost happy to see him, if perhaps a bit apprehensive.

“Petunia,” he said with a nod. She gave him an uncertain smile as she set the tea tray on the low coffee table and began pouring out the tea.

“Severus Snape,” she said. “I wondered – Well, I’m glad to see you.” Vernon blinked at her.

“You know this man, Petunia?” he demanded.

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” Petunia sniffed. “You remember what I told you about my sister and having to move about constantly from the moment she turned eleven? You remember how I told you we were warned of the danger?” Vernon nodded. “Well, this is the boy who warned us.”

“Him?” Vernon didn’t sound angry or affronted anymore. If anything, he sounded impressed. “He’s the one who saved your lives?” He turned to Severus, looking as though he wanted to stand and shake his hand again. “Well, I suppose we ought to thank you then.” Severus’s jaw gaped open in shock.

“I – What?” he said. Vernon Dursley looked him in the eye, and Severus had the distinct impression that this was not a man used to showing others any degree of respect.

“You saved Petunia’s life, and in doing so you saved my family,” he said. When Severus still looked confused, Petunia handed him a piping hot cup of tea.

“I resented you horribly for the longest time,” she said, flushing slightly. “I thought – Well, quite frankly I thought you’d made it all up to ruin my life. I couldn’t understand why my parents took you so seriously. It was only later that-“ She took a bracing gulp from her cup. “After Lily joined the Order, she came back to my parents’ house to cast some sort of protective charm. I was still living with them, you see. She told us that she was the first Muggleborn in twenty-five years to live past eleven. And since she knew – she knew what happened to their families…“

“Blessing upon blessing,” Severus muttered. Perhaps twenty-five was a powerful number after all. Lily had been the one to strongarm the Order into taking action, into trying to save Muggleborns rather than dismissing them as casualties of war. And Severus – would he have tried so desperately to be put in charge of processing the Muggleborns if it hadn’t been for the memory of Lily? How many lives had been saved because of that brief, youthful friendship? For the first time, Severus began to credit the idea that Dumbledore’s Arithmancy had some truth to it.

“Exactly,” said Petunia with a nod. “Even I couldn’t deny that you’d saved all our lives when you were only a child yourself. So when that old man came to our door and told us that Lily and her husband had been killed fighting for your freedom… Well, it seemed that we had to take Harry in, if only because of the prophecy.” Severus sipped his tea, not quite knowing how to respond.

“I’m ready to go, sir,” the boy said. Severus looked over at him. Harry Potter looked nervous but determined, a soldier in the guise of an eleven-year-old boy. “I’ve been ready since I got my Hogwarts letter a few weeks ago. Don’t worry, I didn’t respond to it. I knew that someone from your Order of the Phoenix would come for me.” Severus quickly threw back the rest of his tea, trying to swallow his bitterness along with it. The boy may have only been a half-blood, but he was the Chosen Child and purer than Severus besides. It was only natural that he would be given the same protection as a pureblood in the Dark Lord’s world or a Muggleborn in the Order’s. Severus would have killed to be so confident of his place.

“Get your things then,” he said, unable to keep all his anger from his voice. The boy ran upstairs, and Severus stood. He turned to Vernon and Petunia. “I will test the protective spells around your home and cast any others that I know of before I go.” He began to move towards the hallway, intent on beginning his work and regaining control of his emotions, but before he could leave Petunia was rushing forward, enfolding him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she said. “If you ever need anything, anything at all, you know our address.”

“Petunia…” He didn’t know what he should say, but Petunia didn’t seem offended. If anything, she held him tighter. There was a loud thump, and Severus looked up to see the boy at the top of the stairs, dragging a large trunk behind him. Petunia only let go of him when the boy reached the foot of the stairs.

“Now, do as Severus says and obey the Order, Harry,” she said. “Learn magic and-“

“I know, Aunt Petunia,” the boy said with a laugh, hugging her. “Bye.” He seemed a little more hesitant with Vernon, but the beefy man grunted and shook the boy’s hand. “Bye, Uncle Vernon.”

“The protections should take just a few minutes,” Severus said awkwardly. He stepped out of the living room, through the front hallway, and onto Number Four, Privet Drive’s front stoop. A few pokes in the air and several complex incantations later, he was done. It took only a few moments more for the boy to open the door and stand beside him with his trunk.

“Where are we going, sir?” he said.

“The Order Headquarters,” Severus grunted. He took the boy’s arm, and with a loud crack they were gone.


	2. imaginis honor ad prototypum pervenit  (the honor rendered to an image goes to the prototype)

_18 June 1996 (5 years later)_

Severus stormed up to the front step of the Order’s Headquarters, not bothering to knock before he slammed open the door. Black jumped up in shock, bringing up his wand, but Severus ignored him. He had more important things to worry about than some bloody pureblood’s overlarge ego.

“Where’s Potter?” he said, voice icy.

“Why would you care, Snivellus?”

“I ASKED YOU WHERE IS POTTER!”

“I don’t recall you being invited,” Black said. His wand raised further until it was pointed at Severus’s forehead. “Now get out and leave the real work to the adults.”

“Fuck you.” Severus clenched his trembling fists within the sleeves of his robe, trying desperately not to completely lose his temper with the idiot in front of him. “Do you have any idea, any fucking clue what that brat has done?”

“Only lead his first battle at fifteen,” Black said proudly. “I’d like to see you do better, Sniv. Oh, but I forgot, you have such an _essential_ role-“

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you, Black,” Severus spat. “No matter how you feel about what I do, that boy has put half the Order’s operations in danger.” Black rolled his eyes. “Did he have authorization from the Head?”

“Well, no…”

“And you don’t think there may have been a reason for that?” Black shrugged. For the first time he looked uneasy. “Well, I hope you’re happy, Black, because your little godson’s trigger-happy antics may result in the deaths of hundreds.” Black’s wand finally lowered.

“How?” he said. “Harry’s operation was a success. He and his army-“

“Of children,” Severus muttered.

“-held their own against the Death Eaters and managed to keep the Prophecy of the Chosen Child from your Dark Lord’s hands.”

“Calling that absolute farce ‘holding their own’ is a bit much, don’t you think?” said Severus. “Besides, it’s not the battle that will kill people.”

“Okay, stop being all bloody suspenseful,” Black said, looking thoroughly unnerved now.

“Did the brat ever stop to think,” Severus said silkily, “of what would be made of some of his soldiers? Especially their, ah, identities?” Severus could tell the exact moment when Black realized what had been done.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he breathed, the blood retreating rapidly from his face and leaving only pale sickness behind.

“The Ministry’s been in chaos, but it won’t take them long to look at what the security charms say about the intruders,” Severus said softly. “I expect they’ll be quite shocked when they find two magical signatures that were supposed to have been snuffed out five years ago.”

“Granger and Thomas. We’ll have to move them, relocate their families-“

“You’ll have to do more than that,” Severus said. “Do you know how many my position has allowed me to save?” Black was looking at the ground, the wall, anywhere but at Severus.

“…No.”

“Fifty a year. Minimum. I’ve been the one in charge of processing Muggleborns for the last decade, so that’s at _least_ five hundred people you will have to find a way to relocate and protect once the Ministry starts hunting them down in earnest. Not to mention that you’ll need a new way in once they put two and two together and get me. The fifty this August are as good as dead, since I doubt you’ll find a way to get their names and locations in time.” Severus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wanted to keep his anger, but Black looked so ashamed, so bloody defeated. “Their blood is on your godson’s hands, Black. Now where the hell is Potter?”

“He back there,” Black said. Severus started to make for the hallway, but Black caught his arm to stop him. Severus glared, and Black dropped his arm immediately. “He’s with Albus.” Severus closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, I can wait. Although if the Head isn’t making it clear just how much of a fool that boy was…”

“I’m sure he is,” Black said quickly before hesitating for a moment. “Snape, can I speak to you about something? In private?” Severus glared at the other man.

“Fine,” he bit out. Black lead him down the hallway, past the Head’s office and into a tiny room that looked as though it had been converted from a breakfast nook into a makeshift potions lab. Black waited for him to sit, hovering nervously before taking a file from his robes, enlarging it, and handing it to Severus.

“What’s this?” Severus said, not bothering to open it. Black began pacing nervously.

“Look, Snape, I wouldn’t ask you to help with this if there were any other options. There’s some shit that we can get easy, and most of the time that’s enough. Hell, I thought that would _always_ be enough. But Harry’s going to come of age in two years, and if the conflict with You-Know-Who keeps escalating like it has been we’ll need more than just what can be got in Diagon Alley.”

“Get to the point, Black.” Black stopped in his tracks, looking Severus full in the face for the first time.

“I know you’ve been against brewing for us.” Severus snarled. “No, no, I know why! I do and it’s for a perfectly good reason.” Black swallowed. The admission looked as though it had been physically painful to him. “But the point is, we don’t have many other options. Slughorn’s still hiding from Albus like a bloody coward, and, well, we’re a bunch of fighters here. We weren’t exactly picked for our brains or our skill at potion making. I know that you don’t feel like you can brew for us at Hogwarts, but-“

“But nothing,” Severus said. “I’m tied to Hogwarts until I’m thrown in Azkaban or killed – which, I’ll remind you, will be sooner rather than later after the stunt that your godson pulled.”

“Can you lay off that for a second? I already admitted that you’re right. Besides,” Black sat down across from him and looked at the folder eagerly, “this is a way for you to leave Hogwarts right now and still be of use to the Order.” Severus closed his eyes and shuddered.

“Of use,” he said with a sneer. “Of course.”

“So, will you do it?” Severus looked down at the folder.

“No,” he said.

“What?” Black stood, towering over him. “Why? Why wouldn’t you want to help us?”

“I’ve been helping your lot for fifteen years,” Severus snapped. “If I haven’t done enough to ensure even a modicum of your protection, then I might as well stop trying.” Black deflated, sitting back down in his seat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“Oh, really? Then what, pray tell, _did_ you mean?”

“I just – I thought that, if you wouldn’t be able to stay spying at Hogwarts, you’d want a place here. Not just within the Order, but _here_ , at Headquarters.”

“And what are my other options?” Black didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.” Severus pushed the folder back to Black and stood, straightening his robes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go inform the brat just how grave an error he has made.” For a moment, Severus thought that Black would actually let him go.

“Where else are you supposed to go?” Black said, acid dripping from every word. Severus paused at the doorway, almost glad that Black was going to give him a fight.

“What do you mean?” he said. “I could go anywhere.” Black laughed.

“Oh, no,” he said. “You said it yourself. The Ministry will be wanting your head before this is all over. Maybe they’ll just send you to Azkaban. Maybe they’ll decide that what you’ve done is enough to earn you a little Kiss.”

“Careful, Black. You’re starting to sound like a Death Eater.” Black growled and grabbed Severus’s shoulder, slamming the shorter man against the wall. Severus tried to go for his wand, but he froze when he felt the hard tip of Black’s digging into the soft skin underneath his chin.

“Don’t even fucking try it, Snape,” Black spat. “I was trying to be nice to you, giving you a way to be part of the Order. I see I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“I’m already a member, Black.” Black let out a short bark of laughter.

“No, you’re not. If you were, you would be fighting Malfoy, not being fucked by him. You may think you saved those lives, but you did nothing that any of us couldn’t have done – and we wouldn’t have bowed to your boss in the process. You act like you’re something special, Snivellus, but I have your measure. You’re nothing but a slimy coward. Hell, Harry has more guts than you, and he’s fifteen.”

“I’m not a coward,” Severus gasped. Black snorted, letting go of Severus’s shoulder and tucking his wand away. Severus retreated from the taller man, rubbing his shoulder slightly. Suddenly Black whipped out his wand again, and Severus flinched.

“See?” said Black, sounding amused. “Just a coward.”

“There are worse things to be than a coward,” Severus said. “I’m not the one with blood on my hands. After all, it’s _your_ Order that decided that it was just too difficult to try and save half-bloods’ Muggle parents.”

“Like you’ve ever done shit.”

“I’ve done enough.” And he had, he knew it. He clung to that truth like a drowning man. “I’ve spied for the Order for sixteen years. I’ve saved Muggleborns singlehanded for ten of those. Whatever it was that made you have it out for me, and God only knows what _that_ was, I think I’ve more than made up for it.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Black spat. “You may have everyone else fooled, but I know what you are, Snape, and when you show your true colors I’m going to be the first in line to make you pay.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Black,” Severus said coolly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have arrangements to attend to and an idiot to eviscerate.” And finally, _finally_ he was able to leave Black and his insulting offer, the man seething at the table behind him.

* * *

It wasn’t that Severus resented being made to teach the Muggleborns the Order sheltered. It wasn’t exactly how he’d prefer to spend his limited free time, but he understood he was the only Order member besides the Head with any teaching experience to speak of. It was just that he would have infinitely preferred for them to _listen_ to him.

Oh, Miss Granger was attentive enough – to an annoying degree, really – and some of the NEWT-equivalent students weren’t bad. But as for the rest, they ranged from quietly disinterested to outright hostile. Disinterest he could deal with, he taught at Hogwarts after all, but he couldn’t help resenting the anger and suspicion that seemed to greet him whenever he entered the makeshift classroom.

It was Potter’s fault – well, Potter and Black, really. The boy had been a competent if uninspired student for a year or so, but that was before Black had wormed his way into the boy’s mind and poisoned him against Severus forever. Severus wished that he could use some of the skill in pretending he prided himself for, and he would have been able to if it hadn’t been for the way that Potter’s eyes glared at him, so similar and yet so different from Lily’s. As it was, it was all that Severus could do to hold his tongue.

“No longer,” he muttered as he knocked on the Head’s door. The brat’s thoughtlessness had damned lives this time, and as one of those affected Severus would have his say. The muffled voices within the room stopped, and when no one told Severus to enter he tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.

“Sir,” Severus said as he entered the room, eyes flicking from Dumbledore to Potter. It was obvious that, whatever the Head was discussing with the boy, it was not the complete stupidity of his actions.

“Severus,” Dumbledore said, not looking up from the papers on his desk, “I am speaking with Harry at the moment, but I will be with you as soon as I can.”

“No,” Severus said. That got Dumbledore’s attention, he thought. The old man’s head jerked up from his work, brow furrowed and disapproving. Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Severus had already turned from him to Potter. The brat’s glare was more acidic than he’d ever seen it. “No, Potter has been abominably foolish, and I will have my say.”

“Severus, is this really the time?”

“Could there be any better? Or are you, like Black, determined to encourage the worst parts of the boy?”

“At least I’m not a coward!” Potter burst out, jumping from his seat.

“Silence! I will not be spoken to like this, especially not by _you_.” Potter looked over at the Head, perhaps expecting the old wizard to back him up, but Dumbledore seemed to be determined not to intervene. Severus felt a thrill in the pit of his stomach. Dumbledore’s silence was as good as permission, and for once Severus would be able to say exactly as he truly thought. “Sit, Potter.”

“No.”

“I. Said. Sit.” Potter glanced at Dumbledore again and flopped down in his chair, crossing his arms in a huff. “That’s better.”

“You have no right to order me around.”

“I have every right,” Severus said. “I’ve been a member of the Order for as long as you’ve been alive, and unlike you I know what it’s like in the world under the Dark Lord.”

“No one calls Voldemort the Dark Lord except the Death Eaters.”

“And I have to pretend to idolize them when I am not among Order members.”

“You don’t have to,” Potter muttered sullenly.

“Well, I certainly won’t have to much longer,” Severus snapped, “seeing as you have more or less ensured my arrest and the deaths of potentially hundreds of Muggles and Muggleborns.” Dumbledore gave him a sharp look.

“Severus, the boy doesn’t need-“

“Oh, I think he does.” Severus began to pace, anger growing with every turn. “You are an idiot, Potter. You went against every instruction from the Head down in favor of putting you and all your friends in danger.”

“We had to! The Prophecy-“

“Little would change, Potter. Prophecies are difficult things at the best of times. In attempting to save useless information, you have handed them a thread that could unravel our entire operation. Every Muggle and Muggleborn in the Order’s care is now in mortal danger, and all because you couldn’t stand to wait for an answer from your superiors.”

“Severus, don’t exaggerate,” Dumbledore said mildly. Severus rounded on the Head.

“I’m not exaggerating! Granger. Thomas. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you had someone on the inside – and seeing as I have been in charge of Muggleborn matters for a decade I will be the first one they interrogate.” Severus couldn’t help an involuntary shudder at the thought of what would likely be done to him. “I won’t be able to keep what I know from them forever. Those in the Order’s care will have to be moved and put under even stronger protections, and the Muggleborns to be processed this August have death sentences on them as sure as I do.” Severus took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his temper. “Do not mock me, _sir_.” Dumbledore let out a soft sigh.

“All the same…” he said.

“You’re lying,” Potter interrupted. He got shakily to his feet, looking very pale. “You’re lying, I know you are. Dumbledore said-“

“Oh, yes, what did you tell the boy, _Dumbledore_? Did you congratulate him on his ability to almost get himself and his friends killed? Did you make him believe that so-called nobility somehow makes up for rank stupidity?”

“That is none of your concern, Severus,” the Head said firmly.

“He said that I did well, of course. I saved the Prophecy! That’s the most important thing, after all-“

“Perhaps to him,” Severus said, his voice low and dangerous. “Perhaps to the Order, but not to me.”

“Just because you care more about saving your own skin!”

“Or maybe because I’d rather save lives than some damned Prophecy.” Turning from the boy to look Dumbledore in the eye was the most difficult thing that Severus had ever done. “Sir, I’d like to inform you that I am leaving the Order.” A heavy silence stretched between the three of them.

“Why, Severus?” Dumbledore said at last. “Surely you know that Voldemort will have no mercy on you, not even if you betray us now.”

“I will not betray the Order,” Severus spat. “I am as against the Dark Lord as ever, but the Order’s methods and priorities… they are incompatible with my own convictions. You may have good intentions, Dumbledore, but I can follow you no longer. You will fight him in your way, and I – I will fight him in mine.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said gravely. “I see. I had hoped…”

“It doesn’t matter what you hoped, Dumbledore, I’m telling you how it’s going to be. If you wish to Obliviate my knowledge and bar me from the Order’s wards, I will submit willingly. You do some good, after all, and I wouldn’t want to put you at risk. But I will be leaving today, sir, one way or another.”

“Remember your promises, Severus, what you owe to the Order and to Lily-“

“I promised to pass you information, not to follow your every dictate,” Severus said. “And as for Lily, she would hate what you have done, both to the Order and to her son.” Severus paused, waiting for Dumbledore to argue again, but the old man gave no response. “I will clear out any belongings I have here and leave within an hour,” Severus said awkwardly after a moment.

“Very well.” For the first time Dumbledore seemed disquieted. “Very well, Severus. I hope that some day soon you will reconsider.”

“I doubt it,” Severus said bluntly as he exited the room. “You’ve chosen your path, sir. I hope you won’t regret it.”

* * *

He knew that the speed with which he returned to Hogwarts and packed up everything he owned would instantly raise red flags when the Ministry caught up in their investigation, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had only stayed where there were so many painful memories for the sake of the Order, and he had no intention of ever returning. He could do more on the run than in Azkaban, he was sure of it. What few regrets he had could be dealt with in due course.

His bags were shrunk and stowed away in his pockets, his room had been wiped of any dead skin or hair that could be used in a Tracing Potion, and he was ready to slip his resignation onto the Headmaster’s desk and leave Hogwarts forever. There was only one thing left for him to do, and that was to do what he could to ensure that no one else would suffer for the Potter boy’s stupidity.

“Severus? What’s wrong?” Professor McGonagall said blearily. It took Severus a moment to realize that, judging by her bleary eyes and tartan dressing gown, it was rather late for a social call.

“Can I come in, Professor?” he said. She let him into her quarters, still looking incredibly disoriented.

“Do you need anything? Medical attention?”

“No. Professor, is the area secure? Are there portraits, house-elves – anything that might report what is spoken here?” Professor McGonagall’s gaze instantly sharpened.

“Something’s happened with the Order, hasn’t it? I should have known that things would change, what with the affair at the Ministry.”

“You know about the Order?”

“Nothing more than the name, really, and the fact that you’re in it. At one time I considered joining, but that was a long time ago. I was only sixteen when the first rumors of the Prophecy began to spread, and, well, I made my decision.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to choose again.” McGonagall closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.

“Sit down, Severus. If we must discuss this, and at this hour, we can at least discuss it over a cup of tea.” Severus sat, but he didn’t allow himself to get comfortable.

“I don’t have much time,” he said as McGonagall poured the tea and handed him a cup. “The long and short of it is that my positions both here at Hogwarts and within the Order have been compromised.”

“In the Order? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t ask you to – to do all that I did for them. I won’t ask you to become a spy. But I’ve been the one in charge of saving the Muggleborns and their families for the last decade, and I can’t just let them be killed because I was forced to run. If you can – If you are able-“

“Why me?” McGonagall was looking deep into her cup, as though the deep brown liquid held any answers.

“Because you’re the closest thing I have to someone I trust here,” Severus said. “You’re the only one I thought I had the least chance of convincing. I know I’m asking you to take a risk. I know you’d be risking your life, but-“

“I’ll do it.” Professor McGonagall looked horribly pale, but her voice and hands didn’t so much as waver.

“You will?” Severus said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “Why?” McGonagall finally looked him in the eye for the first time since she had opened the door.

“Severus, I’ve been a selfish creature all my life. I thought that if I didn’t do harm outright, I could be a member of Voldemort’s world and still live with myself. Even when my eyes were forced open repeatedly, I thought that it was too late for me to do anything about it. I was wrong. You’re the same age as I was your first year, and I suspect you’ve done far more with that time than I have.”

“Not enough,” Severus said. “And now I won’t be able to do anything at all, at least not for a while.”

“Do you have a plan for evading the Ministry? I could-“

“No, you couldn’t. You can’t do anything for me directly. Concentrate on convincing Malfoy to put you in charge of the Muggleborns, and that will be enough. Besides, I know where I’m going to hide, at least for now.”

“Good. That’s all I wanted to know.” Severus stood, suddenly inexplicably nervous.

“You’ll do it then?”

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

“And the Order? Do you know how to contact them, or…”

“Dumbledore was my Transfiguration Professor for seven years. There’s nothing unusual about his successor contacting her old teacher and friend.”

“Alright.” Severus paused. There didn’t seem to be a right way to do this. As much as he hated Malfoy and Hogwarts and everything they stood for, it was more difficult than he had expected to leave it all behind. “And the children, you’ll try to guide them, even my Slytherins? I’ve tried, of course, but-“

“I will do all in my power to be a worthy successor, Severus,” McGonagall said gently. “Now go. It will be morning soon, and I expect that you will want to be well away from here before then.”

“Of course.” He smoothed his robes and checked his pockets to ensure that he had everything in order. His fingers hesitated over a sheet of parchment, but he eventually did bring it out. “I want you to take this. It has a two-way Protean Charm on it. I may have broken with the Order, but I may still need to communicate information with them, and this way you’ll be able to contact me as well. It can be written on normally and wiped with a simple _Deleo_.” McGonagall took the parchment from him with a nod, folding it and tucking it into the pocket of her dressing gown.

“Very well,” she said. “I will contact you as soon as I have more information from the Headmaster.”

“I’m not asking you to spy for the Order.”

“I’m not spying for the Order, I’m spying for _you_.” He was about to protest, but she held up a hand. “No, don’t try to dissuade me. Too many horrible things have happened here because I was determined to remain complacent. At least this way my tendency to stand to the side will be good for something, and I dare say you will find a use for it. Is there any information in particular that you would like me to pass on to you?” Severus closed his eyes.

“The addresses for the half-bloods’ letters,” he said, feeling as though his chest would burst. “If you can get anything, get me that.” McGonagall nodded, and then she squeezed his upper arm.

“I’ll do everything I can,” she said. “Now go. I wouldn’t want you to be caught now.”

* * *

Severus was lucky that goblins kept all hours. He was even more lucky that they were generally unconcerned with even the most suspicious behavior by Wizarding standards. For goblins, your wealth was your own to do with as you see fit, and so long as the books were balanced at the end of the month they didn’t care what use it was put toward. This was especially handy when, say, you showed up at the Gringotts front desk at five in the morning to withdraw all the money in both your accounts, half of it in twenty pound bills and half in Sickles instead of Galleons. Were the bank run by the Ministry, there would have been hell to pay.

He found a café near Waterloo station and sat with a Muggle paper to wait for the six thirty train to Little Whinging. According to the schedule, he would arrive at the other station in about forty-five minutes, which would be early but not entirely out of the question, especially considering the circumstances. He only hoped that Petunia Dursley’s kindness would extend to allowing him to stay until he could find a more permanent situation. She had seemed willing enough, but much could change in five years.

Little Whinging was as unnaturally prosaic as ever, but Severus found that less uncomfortable than the last time he had been to Privet Drive. There were few who knew how familiar he still was with the Muggle world, and of those perhaps one – the Head – would ever think to look for him somewhere like this. He tugged at the sleeves of his jacket and checked the pocket once again to ensure that his things were still there, taking the opportunity to mutter a spell or two. As far as he could tell, he was not being followed, but he knew that he couldn’t be too careful. The moment that Malfoy saw his resignation, he would be a hunted man.

Vernon Dursley, when he opened the door, looked just as he had five years before. He blinked at Severus, obviously surprised, but he didn’t seem angry or even annoyed. Severus chose to take that as a good sign.

“Mr. Dursley,” he said, “I’m sorry to intrude at this time, but-“

“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” the man said gruffly. “I’ll get Petunia. Dudley won’t be back from his school until next week. This won’t interfere with that, will it?”

“No,” Severus said. “I’m afraid I must impose on you in an entirely different way.” Vernon Dursley grunted and led Severus into the living room, which hadn’t changed at all except for an even more massive telly.

“I’ll just get my wife,” he said. He walked over to the archway that led into the kitchen. “Petunia, that Snape fellow’s here.” She said something that sounded high pitched and slightly panicked. “No, no, nothing of that sort. Didn’t seem in a hurry, anyways.” Petunia said something else, obviously calmer. “Don’t you have one right – oh, the guest one then? Marge’ll be happy to see it getting some use with someone besides her.” Vernon walked over to a large cabinet full of glassware and china and brought out a posh-looking tea service. He gave Severus with a wry sort of look. “She’ll be out with the tea in a minute.” Severus inclined his head as Vernon sat in the chair across from him.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly. “Again, I apologize for-“

“Don’t mention it,” said Vernon quickly. “When we said we would help if you needed anything, we meant it.” Severus didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply muttered his thanks again and concentrated on the oak coffee table. True to her husband’s word, Petunia didn’t take long to set the tray down and pour the tea.

“Well, what brings you here, Severus?” she asked once she had settled into her armchair.

“I’m sorry again for intruding. Believe me, I wouldn’t have come if I felt I had any choice.” He took a sip of his tea, wincing as it burned the roof of his mouth. “The truth is, well, there was a battle. In the process, several Muggleborns were revealed to be alive. I don’t know how long it will take for the Ministry or the Death Eaters to put two and two together, but when they do my position will be irrevocably compromised. I felt it was prudent to flee at once.”

“Did your side win the battle?” Vernon said.

“They kept the full text of the Prophecy from the Dark Lord,” Severus said coolly. “Unfortunately, they may have won the battle only to lose the war. I was one of the best positioned of the Order’s spies, and no matter how I have tried to counter the damage that battle caused I am unsure of whether my replacement will be able to be as effective.” He took another sip of tea. “That’s why I’m here, really. I, err, I may have broken things off with the Order.” The Dursleys exchanged a heavy look. Vernon seemed openly shocked, but Petunia only pressed her lips together.

“They failed to consider all their variables,” she said. “I heard Lily complain of Dumbledore’s short-sightedness a few times, though I never thought it could be as bad as you seem to be saying. How bad was their misstep?”

“Hundreds of Muggleborns and their families will have to be relocated and put under greater protections. Some will likely be found out and murdered. The information that I gathered from Malfoy at Hogwarts will be useless now, and there won’t be any more of it, at least not collected through my channels. Unless my successor as a spy at Hogwarts manages to get the list of Muggleborns, there will be at least fifty lives lost this August. And for what? For the protection of a Prophecy that reveals as little as prophecies always do!” Severus forced his fists to unclench. “And then, and _then_ they had the audacity to ask me to brew in exchange for their protection, as if being revealed as a spy was my fault, and if I haven’t been loyal to them for almost half my life! So I left. I couldn’t do anything else, not with the Order’s worst qualities on open display. I only hope that they reconsider where their choices are taking them before the resistance to the Dark Lord’s tyranny crumbles entirely.”

“That explains why you aren’t spying anymore,” Vernon said. “But why did you decide to come here? How can we help you?” Severus set his cup on the coffee table.

“Quite frankly, I simply need a place to stay for the moment. It won’t be permanent, and I can repay you for any expenses you incur. I just need to get back on my feet and find a way to continue my work without relying on the Order.”

“Of course you can stay,” Petunia said. Severus glanced at Vernon, expecting some sort of argument, but the beefy man just nodded.

“And don’t worry about paying us anything,” he said. “You’ve done more to keep us safe from the Death Eaters than anyone else – and, yes, I know that it’s you who comes to renew the protective enchantments, never mind that Harry isn’t here any longer and you have nothing to do with us. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as good as family.”

“I…” Severus floundered. He didn’t know what he could possibly say to that. For a long, humiliating moment his eyes prickled and his lungs squeezed as though he was about to cry. “Thank you. I – I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“I’ll show you up to the guest room,” Petunia said gently. “You look like you could use a shower and a bit of a nap.” Severus nodded, unable to speak. Petunia led him up the stairs to the third door from the landing. She opened it to reveal a largish room with a queen-sized bed and a window with lacy curtains.

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Dudley once he comes back, I’m afraid,” she said. “It’s not perfect, but-“

“Thank you,” Severus said again. “Thank you. It’s – It’s more than I ever expected.” He’d lived in a crumbling two-up two-down, in a dorm with a half-dozen other boys, in a forgotten corner of the Hogwarts dungeons. The Dursleys’ guest bed was just about the best place that he had ever been able to call “his” room.

“The bathroom’s on your left side. I usually have my lunch at one or thereabouts. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” Severus nodded shakily. “I’ll let you get your things unpacked. Let me know if you need anything.” Finally she left, and maybe fifteen minutes later Severus heard a car leave the driveway. He took his things from his pocket, restoring them to their full size with a flick of his wand, and retrieved the linked parchment from the side pocket of his larger trunk.

 _In a safe house,_ he wrote. He hesitated for a moment. _The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Pass any information either there of to Arthur Weasley at the Ministry_. To his delight, McGonagall’s bold, spiked handwriting began flowing across the parchment almost immediately.

 _I’m glad you’re in a safe place. The Headmaster is furious, and he has already begun searching for someone to take your place with the Muggleborns. I’ll contact you again when I have more information._ Severus smiled and put his quill back to parchment.

_Good. Be safe._


End file.
